Let's Play Make-Believe (6 page)

I decided to give
Marty a grand tour of my former castle. It was a lot like the tours I had given friends and neighbors after we'd had work done around the house. As I was showing him some of the guest bedrooms upstairs and recognizing all the improvements I had made in my years as the mistress of the house, I started to realize that maybe I had been covering up flaws in our marriage by throwing myself so completely into home renovations. It wasn't an uncommon practice among the bored housewives of Palm Beach, but I'd had no idea I was doing it at the time.

I had purposely saved the master bedroom suite for last. It sat on the east side of the second story, and the main windows looked out over the ocean. The view was remarkable. There was a separate walk-in closet on each side of a hallway that led to a bathroom, which included a small steam room, a Roman tub with Jacuzzi jets, Italian marble counters and sinks, and even a massage table that pulled out from one of the marble counters. That saved Brennan's personal masseuse the trouble of carrying a table with her when she stopped by to give him one of his three weekly massages.

I enjoyed the look on Marty's face as he inspected every inch of the house. He said, “This is just unbelievable. Even a spread in
Architectural Digest
wouldn't do this place justice. And most of these renovations were your idea?”

I nodded while trying to hide my superior smile. “That's right, I made this place what it is today. When I got here, Brennan had literally thrown some rugs across the floors and hadn't updated the house in any other way since the 1960s. When I found mold—and I'm talking some serious mold, like up the walls and everything—in two of the guest bedrooms, Brennan's response was ‘No one stays there long enough to get sick, so why worry about it?'”

“Peach of a guy. I'm glad I've never had to meet him face-to-face.”

“You're in another class. There's no reason for you to ever have to deal with that jackass. He'll be out of our life soon enough.”

Marty smiled and said, “Now, that's an attitude I can get behind. As long as you don't need all this again, I can't see why I won't make you happy.”

Instead of answering him, I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck, then planted a long, lingering kiss on his lips. It felt nice to have this kind of passion in this particular bedroom. The room certainly hadn't seen this kind of action from me in a long time. I had no idea what Brennan was up to on the dating front, and I didn't care. If I really had to admit it, this house had always meant a lot more to me than Brennan had. At least that was what I kept telling myself.

I pulled Marty by his hand and said, “I have one more thing I have to show off, and this one will blow your mind.” I ignored his questions and pulled him into the walk-in closet, which was really just another room, to the left of the hallway leading to the bathroom. This was Brennan's formal closet, with one entire wall covered by over a hundred suits, organized by cut and color. I knew it would shock Marty.

He was silent for a moment, then whistled as he walked along a row of suits, dragging his finger across the sleeve of each one. He looked up at the dozens of shirts, in colors ranging from white all the way to black, arranged in perfect order. It looked like a paint chart from one end of the closet to the other.

Marty said, “And he wore a different suit every day?”

“Sometimes two; one to work and one to go out at night. The man loves his clothes.” I watched Marty poke around the closet; then I said, “Go ahead, take a couple of sports jackets. He'll never notice. Take anything you want. Brennan might be a little taller than you, but you're about the same size. I'm telling you, that asshole will never miss them.”

Then I noticed Marty pulling a box from a shelf at the end of the closet and holding it up to show me. It was the box that our matched set of Walther PPK pistols had come in. Brennan's blue steel pistol was still in the box, surrounded by foam padding; an empty space in the shape of a pistol showed where mine used to reside. Now it was safe in the nightstand in my hotel room.

I didn't say anything when Marty pulled the gun from the box and checked to make sure there were cartridges in the magazine. He looked at me for any sign of disapproval, and when I gave none, he slipped the gun into the pocket of his shorts. You couldn't even notice it.

He put the box back right where he'd found it. I knew it would take Brennan months to find out it was empty. Even if he decided to go shooting, he had other guns and might assume he'd stuck the PPK somewhere else. Things like that didn't bother Brennan.

As we slipped out of the house and locked the patio door behind us, I realized I was about to walk down the beach with a man who had just stolen a gun and was carrying it illegally in public in one of the wealthiest cities in America.

This was an exciting game.

Marty had a maniacal
grin when he turned to me, raised his eyebrows, and said, “This is the big one. You ready for it?” He looked perfect, framed by the rail and the overhang where we were sitting. The sun was just over his head with the Gulfstream Park racetrack behind him.

He held a handful of tickets for the third race and threw in a cartoon madman's laugh. Who wouldn't smile at an act like that? He looked cute, dressed casually in a polo shirt and jeans. This was just another one of his surprises, and I had never been to a horse-racing track before.

Marty knew I loved horses but had been avoiding the polo fields of Wellington because I didn't want to risk running into Brennan. I had casually mentioned it the evening before as we shared a bottle of wine on the beach. That was when he'd come up with this perfect alternative. We'd left this morning for the track in Hallandale Beach. It was a nice ride, about an hour away, and on a weekday, the place wasn't too crowded. The hot dogs were good and the beer was cold. Marty had managed to sweep me off my feet once again.

When the starting gun sounded, the gates opened and the horses burst out like water from a broken dam. It didn't bother me that there weren't enough people around to make the cheers sound thrilling; I screamed for our horse anyway. We'd put no real thought into making a dozen bets on a horse named Sullivan's Dream. Marty had showed me how to bet on the horse by itself, as well as in combination with other horses, and now we were about to see the result of our leap of faith.

Everything looked good until the third turn, where our horse slowed considerably, and before the race had been decided officially, we realized we were out of the money. Marty said, “Had enough of horses for the day?” He scooped up the losing tickets and stuffed them into his pocket.

“What did you have in mind?” It was warm, and I didn't mind the idea of avoiding Broward County rush hour.

A few minutes later, I found myself on the shuttle heading toward the far reaches of the sprawling parking lot and my white Volvo S-60.

Marty said, “I'll drive, if you don't mind.”

I smiled as I thought about what a gentleman he was. Then we slipped onto I-95 and started cruising north.

I said, “This is great. Just what I needed. A few hours away from Palm Beach.” I realized that was the opposite of the opinion most people held.

Marty kept his eyes on the road as he said, “Glad you liked it.”

“What would you like to do now?”

He thought about it for a few seconds and then said tentatively, “I have a game in mind.”

“Anything you want. You've definitely earned it.”

Marty just gave me one of his smiles and didn't say anything else. I was content with that. We let Adele's music fill our silence as we zipped along the interstate northbound. I didn't say a word when we passed our exit. Marty had already proved that his surprise trips were always worth the effort.

When we were more than an hour past Palm Beach, I finally said, “Is this all part of your game or are you lost?”

He kept a smile as he said, “All part of the game.”

“Want to fill me in?”

He just smiled, and I liked it. He looked a little nervous, with his fingers thumping on the steering wheel and his constant shifting in the seat. I didn't really know what it meant, but I was willing to go along with the game.

We pulled off the interstate and took the long road east until we were on the edges of the city of Vero Beach.

I said, “Okay, I can guess that this game has something to do with your ex-wife. She lives here, right?”

Marty nodded. “She does. You still in?”

“Sure, I said I'll play.”

“Then do me a favor and reach back into my jacket on the rear seat.”

I twisted and reached for the Windbreaker and immediately felt something heavy in the pocket. I pulled out the pistol and held it up.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Marty grinned and said, “If you think it's the pistol I took from Brennan's closet.” He made it sound innocent, like it was a shoe he had taken.

“What's it for?” I kept my voice as even as possible.

“Our game.”

“What's the game?”

“It's called
scare the shit out of my ex-wife, Teal.
” He kept driving, taking a few turns, and said, “Come on, it'll be good for a laugh.”

I didn't say yes or no as we parked on a short cul-de-sac a few blocks from the ocean.

Marty pointed at one of the three houses on the right side of the road. A vacant lot took up the space on each side of it, separating it from the houses next door. “That's her house.”

It was nice. Nothing like my old house, but it was clean and cute. A short walk to the beach. I was getting nervous as I considered all the crazy things that could happen. But I didn't want to let Marty down, and frankly I was curious as to how he'd scare her. He was a smart guy. I was certain he had put some thought into this.

A brown Audi whipped down the street, then pulled into the driveway.

Marty said, “And heeeeere's Teal.” Then he looked at me and said, “Are you sure you want to play? I could really use the help.”

I hesitated, then blocked out all the reasons I should say no. Instead I said, “Yeah, I'll play.”

Marty explained my part
of his plan quickly, and I just nodded like a robot. It all sounded crazy to me. All I had to do was distract his ex-wife and he would do the rest. I still had no idea how badly he was going to scare her, but somehow, the idea was enticing. Maybe it was because I wanted to scare Brennan badly that I agreed to go along with everything. This was as close as I could get for now.

We both slipped out of the car, and Marty darted toward a row of bushes that would keep him out of sight. I just started to walk slowly down the street in the direction of Teal's house. I noticed that of the few houses, one of them was empty, with a For Sale sign in the yard, and another house on the corner had no cars in its gravel driveway. On the other side of the street, where we were parked, there were no houses, just the rear of a church soccer field.

Teal was unloading groceries and had to make a couple of trips from the front door to her open trunk.

When I was on the street in front of her house, I got my first good look at Marty's ex-wife. She was a beauty: tall, with a creamy complexion and long, wavy hair. I realized I had never seen a picture of her. I'd done a little snooping on Facebook, but she had no profile.

She noticed me, and I felt my stomach jump. My pulse was racing. I wasn't sure I liked this game.

Teal stared at me for a moment. That pushed me to say, “Hi, I, umm, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just had a stupid flat tire. I was hoping there might be someone who could give me a hand.” Marty had said to distract her, but I really hadn't put much thought into it. I hoped this was doing the trick. I figured he'd just slip into the house or do something equally juvenile.

Teal said, “I don't think I'd be much help, but we can call someone. There's a service station less than a mile away.”

She didn't sound anything like I'd thought she would. Her voice was warm, and she genuinely seemed interested in helping me. That was a stark contrast to the portrait Marty had painted for me of his ex-wife. She was wearing a simple yellow floral print sundress and looked like a suburban mom who'd brought her kids back home from soccer practice. Suddenly I didn't like the idea of helping Marty scare her.

Teal took a few steps past her open trunk toward me and was just about to say something else when Marty burst out of the bushes and stepped into the yard next to the driveway.

If this was his prank, it worked. Teal jumped and squealed, turning to face her ex-husband. Then she said, “Martin? What the hell are you doing here?”

Right at that point, I realized the game was already spiraling out of control.

Now that Marty was
out of the bushes and ready to confront his ex-wife, I didn't see where the real scare was. He didn't have the gun in his hand, and they immediately started to bicker. It was really more awkward than scary, and I have to say I was disappointed by the outcome.

Marty even looked a little confused as Teal started to make her points.

She said, “All you do is complain to me about not being able to pay alimony. How you're so busy you don't have a free minute in the day. But somehow you have time to drive all the way up here from West Palm Beach with your bimbo? That doesn't make any sense, Martin.”

Marty just stared at her for a moment, and in all honesty, I felt embarrassed for him. Then he said, “Do you have any idea how you sound? How you are more like a shrieking bird than an actual woman? You've never even met Christy. How dare you call her a bimbo.”

“Really, Martin? Really? You're at
my
house, where I moved to get away from your crazy jealousy and stalking, and now you're lecturing me on jumping to conclusions about a woman I've never met?”

Then Teal looked at me. She did not have the scared, confused expression I had been expecting. Instead she said, “Are you part of his plan? You seem bright enough. How did he trick you? Did you just get sucked in slowly to his crazy schemes? It's easy, I know. Everything seems normal until all of a sudden you realize he has no boundaries. His concept of reality is very different than it is for the rest of us. My advice to you would be to run. Just like I did. But apparently I didn't run far enough.”

Teal turned back to Marty and said, “Congratulations, Martin, way to impress your new girlfriend. Now, I've got a lot to do, so if you'll excuse me, I need to finish bringing in these groceries.”

That felt like a pretty definitive end to our little escapade. I knew Marty wanted the experience to last. He wanted to see fear on her face and maybe expected her to be jealous of me. I'd never really been clear on the goal, but now I could see that coming here had been a mistake. His plan to scare her just hadn't worked out.

Marty reached behind his back, and when his right hand came in front of him he was holding the pistol. I have no idea how badly it scared Teal, but at that moment, I was in absolute shock. I could feel the acid in my stomach back up into my throat. I had never seen a gun pointed at a person before except on TV. I could feel my knees starting to get shaky.

Marty wasn't wearing his normal good-natured smile. He shouted, “You know why I came all the way up here?”

Teal was mesmerized by the gun as she took a step away from Marty. The pretty yellow sundress fluttered in the breeze, but I could see Teal's legs start to shake. Was this the moment Marty had been looking for? Was the terror he was causing his ex-wife enough for him? It was for me.

Teal held both hands out in front of her and said, “I don't know what you're doing, Martin, but this has gone far enough. Put the gun away and we'll forget about this whole stupid encounter.”

That sounded good to me. Maybe we hadn't ruined everything. I was about to tell Marty that I wanted to leave when I heard two loud pops. They dissipated in the wide-open space and didn't sound the way I thought gunshots should sound, but the noise, coupled with the bright flashes from the barrel of the gun, told me Marty had snapped.

For a moment, I just held my breath. Time felt like it had stood still. The two of them stood facing each other and hadn't moved a muscle since he'd pulled the trigger. Then Teal slowly turned to face me and I could see two red stains on her pretty yellow floral print dress. One was just below her sternum and the other was along the top of the dress, closer to her right arm.

Teal's mouth moved like she was trying to say something, but no words came out. For a moment I just heard an unsettling bubbling sound; then she kept turning until she fluttered to the hard gravel of the driveway in a heap. Her long hair drifted behind her and settled around her face like a soft blanket.

Slowly I looked at Marty, who was still frozen in place with the gun out in front of him. He looked as if he was as surprised as anyone that the gun had gone off. But he still didn't move. He just stared at the lump of flesh that was his ex-wife, Teal.

Maybe I should've been in shock longer, but immediately the practical part of my brain kicked into gear. I'll admit I had let out a quick scream as soon as Marty fired, but my first real thought was to wonder if anyone had heard the gunshots.

I turned my head, quickly scanned the soccer field behind us, and saw that there was no one outside the church. There were those vacant lots on each side of Teal's house, and when I looked up the street I saw nothing but one car passing on US 1. I didn't think the sound of the shots would've carried very far. They'd happened so close together that it would be difficult for someone to pinpoint where they had come from.

Taking everything in and making a quick assessment led me to yell at Marty, “We need to go, right now!”

God forgive me, but it wasn't until we were in my car and Marty was driving south on US 1 that I even thought about whether we should have checked Teal to see if she was still alive.